Unclassified
by petite etoile22
Summary: My Ros/Zaf were always canon AU fic. Pretty much does what it says on the tin. On a mini hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** So here is my 'Ros/Zaf were always canon' AU fic. This starts from 5.1 and will continue until the world believes it actually happened! :P This is probably going to end up longer than 'Loyal Infidelity' and take much longer to write. This is my little baby for the time being. I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to review; they're always appreciated, and are very helpful. Seriously, even if it's just a squee. Obviously, there will be spoilers; mainly from series 5 onwards._

_**Disclaimer:** Spooks and its characters are the property of the BBC and Kudos Productions._

* * *

She's thinner than he remembers, and there are the faintest of bags under her eyes. He isn't worried (she's always like this after a particularly long op), he just wishes that Collingwood wouldn't work her so hard; especially if he's only going to treat her like an over-qualified PA. She smiles when she catches sight of him and her face brightens slightly.

"Here," she murmurs, offering him a slice of toast which he takes a mouthful of.

"So, classified or unclassified today?"

"Remarkably unclassified," she sighs. "Just file after file of intelligence to sift through; an attempt to deal with the aftermath of the fuel-depot attack."

"Sounds terrible."

"Mmm, I rather gouge my eyes out."

"Hope not," Zaf grins. "I wouldn't get to see the way they cloud over when you-"

"You have a wicked mind," Ros laughs as she hops down from the kitchen stool, smoothes her skirt, and bends down to put on some astonishingly high heels; Zaf can't help but admire the view.

"Stop staring," she playfully scolds, "or at least mop up the drool."

"Ros?"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking we should go out tonight, celebrate a job well done."

"I'll have to check with Collingwood; we've got a lot on at the moment. And dad wants to see me."

Zaf nods, understanding that the blonde rarely gets to spend any time with her father. Dinner at home it is then. He pecks her softly on the cheek as she breezes out the door; the staccato of her heels fading slowly into the distance. Whatever she's working on now, he hopes it finishes soon.

* * *

Zaf knows he's going to have a long day as soon as Adam steps through the pods, and Harry doesn't bat an eyelid; just calls him into the briefing room. Even Malcolm, muttered an 'oh God'. He hastily follows the others through the glass door, deciding that tonight's romantic dinner is now out of the question. The cell was dutch; he has feeling that Ros' friends are neck-deep in some unpleasant substance right now.

"This Djakarta story hasn't gone away?"

"No," Ruth replies to Adam's question. "The phrase started appearing three weeks ago in the arab world, and now it's everywhere."

"It could be connected to the fuel depot bombings," Zaf suggests, making a mental note to follow it up with Ros. If she decided not to be her usual cryptic self when it came to work.

"Probably," Ruth affirms. "It's also the same threat the Prime Minister's son received."

"While he's at university, he's vulnerable. We ne-"

"Already sent Jo along."

Adam nods. "Then she stays with him; close protection."

Zaf leaves with Ruth, and he can't help but think that the puzzle pieces aren't quite fitting together. Terrorists tend to be more interested in striking fear into the heart of the People, not one politician's son. Ruth switches on the news, and before the fraught images begin to possibly make sense, the phones start ringing. He looks over at the analyst's face as she hangs up the phone.

"Intel just came through of another attack; they think it was biological this time."

Shit.

* * *

"You're late."

Ros bites down a sharp retort, remembering her father's request.

"Traffic. I don't understand how there can be any, I thought no one had petrol. That's what the paper's are saying."

"That's what the red tops are saying," Collingwood responds, never once looking up from his file.

"What the hell is Millington playing at? Someone needs to remind him of his place."

"Well," he drawls, "you are the best_ woman _for the job."

Ros automatically bristles at that statement; she'd thought she'd left all that stupidity behind when she had been assigned to Collingwood's team.

"How's the depot intel coming along?"

"Slowly. We might have more luck if the bill is pushed through."

"But it hasn't yet. So I think we might just have to go to plan B," she states drily, picking up a large pile of files and heading out to her desk. She can tell already that this will take hours, and sends a message to her father canceling their lunch. It looks like dinner is out the question too. Just when she thinks her day can't get any more complicated or worse, her phone rings.

"Myers speaking."

"Just received some information. They think there's been another attack, biological this time."

"Thank you so much," Ros sighs as she hangs up the phone.

Shit.

* * *

Zaf is somewhat relieved when Ruth announces that the victims were poisoned; puncture marks in the thighs, very old school. Adam gives out orders which have already been followed, and a couple of hours after the blond spook leaves, he does the same. He's genuinely surprised to find Ros cooking when he gets home.

"I thought dinner was my treat. What are you doing home so early?"

"I love you too."

"That's not what I meant."

"I cancelled my meeting with dad, worked through lunch, and then Collingwood was in such a foul mood when the Anti-terror Bill got thrown out that I decided to quit while I was ahead."

"You brought some files home though, didn't you?"

"Classified," she answers, setting the kitchen table. It seems to be her favourite answer at the moment. He can't help but wonder when her life outside these walls will become unclassified information to him.

"How _was_ Baghdad?" Zaf asks, changing the subject.

"Successful. I missed you though."

"You were there for ages; bound to miss the Zafinator eventually."

Ros laughs softly. "I've been in deep cover for longer."

He kisses her gently on the lips. "But you didn't have me to come back to."

"No, I didn't," she murmurs into his lips. "You help me feel real again."

_

* * *

It's pissing it down with rain when Zaf hears the knock at the door. A knock that quickly turns into pounding. He feels slightly guilty when he hears his flat mate Lucy go and get in; she has her interview for promotion tomorrow. All those thoughts fly out the window though when the image of a shivering and soaked to the bone Ros Myers enters his field of vision. His first instinct is to crack a joke about women's timekeeping skills (she did promise him a drink nearly a year ago), but it dies in his throat when he notices that she's struggling to hold back tears._

"_Don't worry Lucy," he whispers. "I've got this."_

_His friend looks warily at the blonde spook balancing precariously in ridiculous heels. "Are you sure?"_

"_Positive."_

"_I'll see you tomorrow then," she acquiesces, closing her bedroom door behind her._

_The room is silent, with the exception of Ros' shuddering breaths as she tries not to cry. Zaf turns to the blonde and gently guides her to the sofa, the rainwater running off her and leaving a trail across the laminate flooring. It reminds him of ice sculptures melting._

"_I'm going to run you a bath."_

_She doesn't respond. Zaf returns a few minutes later to find that she hasn't moved from the spot he left her._

"_Ros-"_

"_I've fucked up."_

"_Was it an op?"_

"_It's an op."_

"_What's the problem?"_

"_I'm still on it," she whispers. "They won't fucking take me off it."_

"_Ros-"_

"_Please. Just one night off. Just one night where I don't have to be her." Her hands clasp the material of his vest and only then does he notice the bruising on her wrists. He pushes her sleeves back to reveal similar markings._

"_Bloody hell," he exclaims. "You need to report this."_

"_I did. But I don't have what they want. 10 months, and I still don't have what they want." Her voice is taunt, and Zaf knows she is exercising all her self-control not to break down in front of him. He's honoured that she trusts him enough to turn up at his flat in the first place._

"_I'm so tired, Zaf."_

_He knows what she means. She's starting to forget who she is, and when you reach that point, all you want to do is go home._

"_Give it 48 hours, Ros. If you can get through the next 48 hours, you can survive anything."_

_For a moment, it looks as if she is going to cry. She kisses him instead._

* * *

Zaf has no idea why he's plagued by a sense of unease. It only gets worse when Harry returns from the meeting highly suspicious of Collingwood, which in turn makes him highly suspicious of Ros. He can't help bristle when Adam has been assigned to 'monitor' Rosalind. He's tempted to make a comment about not being her type, but professionalism gets the better of him.

"I'll invite her over. Say we're trying to improve inter-agency relations."

"Good. But remember," Harry warns, "MI6 take no prisoners."

Zaf decides to leave before she turns up; he really doesn't want to see his mate flirting with his girlfriend. No one might know about their relationship, but that doesn't stop the hint of jealousy from bubbling away in his stomach. He spends the afternoon in a surveillance van, tailing various unsavoury characters and after a couple of hours, laughing at the thought of Adam running a successful honeytrap against Ros. She wrote the rule book at Six.

Ros is getting ready to leave when he gets home. From her dress, he can tell that Ros has received orders of her own; orders she doesn't seem too happy about.

"Going somewhere nice?" He grins from behind her.

"Dinner," she replies. He's long since given up on trying to surprise her; it only works when she has the flu. That's also the only time he can shake her awake without risk of a black eye or worse.

"Anyone I know?"

"Your blond friend. The one your boss asked to keep an eye on me."

Zaf can't help but laugh; nothing gets past her. "Please be gentle on him."

"I'm always gentle."

He merely quirks an eyebrow and kisses her. "See you later, yeah?"

"Collingwood wants to see me."

"Tonight? Why?"

"Classfied. Look, he's running something big and he needs all hands on deck. It'll all be over in a couple of days." Ros assures him, slipping out of the door.

She doesn't come home that night.

* * *

Zaf feels his heart sear with pain when Adam calls with news of Colin's murder. He can't believe it, he doesn't want to; his girlfriend's boss has just killed his friend. They all go straight to Adam's, and he's grateful that he doesn't have to see Ros just yet. The silence is stifling, broken only when Malcolm lashes out.

"He was my best friend, you pompous old fool!"

It's Adam who manages to calm him down in the end.

"You carry on, and you smile Malcolm."

"I'm sorry," Malcolm whispers, shaking his head. "I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"Adam!" Ruth interjects, worried for her friend's well-being.

"Would you smile at your wife's killers?"

There is a long pause; Zaf already knows what Adam will say, he also knows the blond is trying to find the courage to admit it to himself. "Yes. If I had to, I would smile."

He feels a strange swelling of pride when the analyst manages a slight quirk of the lips; he's still wondering how he's going to be able to look at her. He doesn't need to worry; Harry receives a call announcing that Jo and Rowan are temporarily in the wind. He's barely hung up before Adam's phone rings.

"It's Ros."

The pain in his chest gets worse.

"Why don't you come over to mine? No, he'll be asleep. Around eight? Ok, see you then." Adam disconnects with a sly grin on his face. "Malcolm, could you send me the details of Jo's safe house."

"With pleasure."

Any other time, Zaf might be tempted to warn Ros that she was walking into a trap, but he holds his tongue right now. There is a chance that this all might just look bad; this is her chance to prove her innocence, to prove that she isn't part of the group that cold-bloodedly hung his colleague.

* * *

Ros is exhausted and annoyed when she gets home, but Zaf is livid. She knows as soon as she steps through the door that a fight is on the cards, and unfortunately, she has a slight inkling as to why.

"In all the years I've known you, I never took you for a murderer."

"And who am I supposed to have killed?"

"Don't Ros," he warns. "Don't use your bloody rhetoric on me. I deserve more."

"I knew nothing about your officer's death."

"You expect me to believe that?"

Her eyes flash with anger and underlying hurt. "I do actually."

"Why?"

"Look Zaf, I didn't know your man was out in the field. Whoever found him and whoever killed him, is none of my business. What the hell do you want from me?!"

"An ounce of remorse; just some proof that you're human."

"Fuck you," she spits. "I'm not apologising for something I had nothing to do with."

"Are you sure about that? Why the hell should I believe you?!"

"Because it's the truth!"

"My friend's in a fucking morgue because of your people and your covert agendas, so forgive me if I struggle to believe a word that comes out of your mouth!"

" My people? Two years ago you were one of us."

"Well, thank God I got out when I had the chance."

He narrowly avoids the picture frame that is thrown at him. "You're a twat, an absolute twat. It might be difficult for you to comprehend but I didn't even know your friend existed until we received a call telling us he was found swinging from a tree branch. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not guilty. Not this time."

"Then why did you hack into Adam's laptop. Why did you go round there fluttering your damn eyelashes, and steal officers' field locations?"

"Because I was bloody ordered to!" Ros shouts, her frustration bubbling over.

"That's right, I forgot you were thick as shit with no free will. I should've realised when you told me you played the role of the battered girlfriend for nearly a year, because they 'ordered' you to carry on with the op."

He wants to swallow the words back up as soon as they leave his mouth; even through his red mist of anger, he can see that he's hurt her far more than accusations of murder ever could.

"Ros-"

She shakes her head, cutting him dead. "Well Zaf, here's me exercising my free-fucking-will."

As the door slams shut behind her, Zaf knows it's going to take far longer than 48 hours to sort this mess out.

* * *

_**Hope you enjoyed. Please review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**__ Okay, there's a bit of swearing in this chapter. I'm forewarning people because I don't want to push the rating up just yet. Some speech is also taken from the ep 5.2._

_**Disclaimer: **__Spooks belongs to BBC and Kudos productions._

* * *

Zaf wakes the next morning, instantly aware of Ros' absence in the flat. A small part of him hopes that she's just sulking in the spare room, but all his search reveals is an empty bed that clearly hasn't been slept in. He knows what he said was out of order, but he was angry and grieving; he still is. He makes his way through his morning routine, occasionally tripping over an item of hers she'd left around. He can't understand how her amazing ability to compartmentalise never extends to her living environment.

He calls her on the way to work, but she doesn't pick up. It's an understandable reaction, but one he could honestly do without; he just wants to talk to her, to explain his actions and perhaps apologise. Zaf knows from experience that he should just let her cool off. Trouble is, he has no idea how cold she'll be once she does. Zaf walks determinedly to Harry's office, ignoring his team's puzzled looks.

"Zafar?" It's clear that he's about to leave for another meeting, but Zaf knows he has to get this out now.

"Rosalind Myers is my girlfriend."

"What?"

"She's my girlfriend; has been for nearly five years."

"Tell me why I shouldn't have you suspended right now."

"She's not the enemy, Collingwood is. Ros is just following orders."

"She tell you that?"

Zaf shakes his head. "I know Ros better than most people. She'll follow an order to the point where she gets herself hurt."

His voice is heavy; he can't believe that after all these years, he can still see the bruises. Harry looks into his eyes and sees no hint of a cover-up.

"Alright. We won't target her, for now. But one whiff that she knows more, and we're pulling her in."

Zaf nods, hoping it doesn't come to that.

"In the meantime, I want you to tell Ruth everything you know about her. Whatever Collingwood's planning, I want it stopped. Now."

Zaf watches as his boss head through the pods, flanked by Adam and Juliet. He has to stop her; if only so she doesn't fuck her life up.

* * *

Ros sits in the bunker, slightly regretting her decision to storm out last night. She knows he didn't mean it; she's already forgiven him. She just hasn't quite been able to forgive herself yet. He'd been grieving; she should've allowed him to let it all out, not pick a fight. A part of her fears he was right, that 'her people' did have something to do with his colleague's death. Then she reasons that unfortunately, his friend was of such insignificance that it would've been of little use to have him murdered. She straightens in her chair as soon as she hears the door open. Ros knows as soon as she looks into their eyes that Zaf has told them about their relationship. She just hopes they have the sense not to bring it up. The atmosphere is tense as they wait for the final piece of the puzzle to slot into place.

"Hello Harry," she draws herself to her full height at the sound of his voice. "My daughter has greatly enjoyed your hospitality."

Ros can't help but internally roll her eyes; of course he'd start the meeting with provocation. She is mildly impressed by the fact that no one rises to his bait. Instead, they dive straight into the pointless debate, tossing pointless examples and euphemisms backwards and forwards.

"Spare me the four horsemen of the apocalypse," Harry cuts in. "This is a coup d'etat, pure and simple."

Ros doesn't know where the niggling sensation in her chest has come from; it appears to have blossomed from Pearce's very words. Her father's face remains impassive though, and she blocks out the insults against the very people she has sworn to protect. Her mind wanders back to last night's argument instead. She wonders if that short, heated _discussion _has annihilated five years worth of companionship. It pains her that she's hurt him, even if it is only through her association with the sister service.

"Let me give you an ultimatum; you have a week to accept out terms of government. During this time, there will be no more incidents and I expect the same of you. I give you my word."

The Home Secretary face is strained and tired. "Agreed."

Adam's disapproving face is in her peripheral vision and before her common sense can kick in; she's making her approach, hoping Zaf will get the message.

"Adam."

He turns at the sound of her voice.

"It was true about the perfume. I'd never have done something so vulgar."

"Yes, you would."

She tempted briefly (very, very briefly) to tell him to fucking ask Zaf, but isn't sure if he wouldn't think so low of her as well.

"It was a gift; for my 16th birthday."

"From daddy to his little girl?" Adam spits sarcastically. She'll never tell him that it was her dead mother's perfume, given to her two years early because she was having such a bad time both at home and at boarding school. She tells him the next best thing instead.

"I knew nothing about the murder of your officer, you have to believe me."

"I don't have to believe a word that comes out of that lying mouth of yours."

She thinks then, that she might've fucked things up beyond repair with Zaf.

And then there's talk of the cars.

"But you promised a cease-fire. You gave them your word. To do anything else would be beneath us."

"I have no control over operational matters..."

Ros doesn't want to hear anymore; suddenly she's 12 years old and her father is absolving himself from her step-mother's behaviour yet again. She watches as he stands by and lets Collingwood berate her for a failed honeytrap that she was against in the first place. Ros decides then that if he's going to behave like that, then she's going to do what she did as a child; rebel.

'**GET OUT OF THE CARS. BELIEVE ME.'**

As she leans against the cubicle door, she hopes Adam believes what comes from her phone more than what comes from her mouth.

* * *

Zaf swears as he makes his way back onto the Grid. His heart is pounding at the thought of what he holds in his hands; an ID card with Colin's murderer on it.

"Ruth!"

The smaller woman hurries over to him. "Zaf, there's been an explosion-"

"Harry and Adam?"

"I haven't heard anything..."

"I'm sure they're fine," he says in a bid to reassure her. "Look at this; it's an ID for Jensen. We picked up two men at the decoy cottage, but neither of them were him."

"This is for and air traffic control centre. Do you think this is the third attack?"

Zaf gives a tense nod. "Tell Harry the intelligence Harry wanted is on his desk."

He leaves, trying to ignore the nasty taste in his mouth. They would've found out this information anyway; it's better that it comes from someone who understands Ros and can help them use it tastefully. He'd left out the really personal issues; the things she had disclosed late at night, drunk on vodka and tears or in the early hours of the morning, cocooned safely in his arms. He just wants to save her; he needs to save her because she has a remarkably large blind spot when it comes to her father.

Zaf knows how the situation is going to go down as soon as Jensen walks into the room, spouting his bigotry. He also knows that as soon as security leave the room, he is a dead man. As the crowbar pierces the metal shell of the cabinet, he can't help but wish (among other things) that Ros' last memory of him would be an insult, and a vicious one at that. But then he remembers that he has never been one for self-pity, so he centers his weight and grabs the crowbar. The fight is quick but vicious; Zaf can't help but put a smug inflection in his tone when he orders security to lock him in a room. Personally, he'd like to smash his face in repeatedly, but he knows Colin wouldn't have wanted that. Exhausted, he dials Adam.

"Crisis averted."

"Get back here." There is a pause, which Zaf knows contains bad news. "Harry's been arrested. I'm sorry, but we had to pull her in."

* * *

Adam stands in the corner, watching as the blonde woman consistently denies her father's involvement in the coup despite all the video footage of sick children boarding planes and records of mafia funding, and wonders what Zaf ever saw in this traitor. He soon tires of listening to her excuses and decides to hit closer to home. Ruth silently hands him the photographs, which he sets out on the table. She averts her eyes and he knows he's hit a nerve; he just not sure if it's the right one.

"Your father doesn't seem to eager to leave that party, or that particular girl."

She's silent; wrong nerve. Ruth knows what he's planning to do next and he can feel the disapproval coming off her in waves; he doesn't have a choice though.

"Do you love your mother? Your real one, I mean, because I have it on good authority that you really dislike your step-mum and she really hates you." Adam hears the slight intake of breath and knows it's definitely the right nerve this time. "Shall I take that as a yes?"

He can hear Ruth and Malcolm shuffling nervously behind him; they fear it is going to get far too personal, that he'll cross a line.

Ros sets her jaw straight, and looks him right in the eye. "You know nothing about my mother."

"Oh, but I do. I probably know a lot more than you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her tone is disdainful, but he can hear the tremor beneath it. She's afraid, and she has every right to be. Adam knows what he says next could break her but he has to get Ros to hate her father; it's the only way of stopping Collingwood. He going to tear those rose-tinted glasses right off.

"Your mother killed herself. She dropped you off at nursery, went home, and slit her wrists."

"She didn't. She'd ne-"

He slides a manilla file before her. "It's all here in the hospital reports. She had a history of depression, heightened by your father's infidelities. He cheated on her just like he cheats on your step-mother. Your father's not noble, Ros; never has been. He's cheap and sordid; just like this coup."

Ros glances away, fighting back tears. If her heart was broken before, it's fucking shattered now. "I need some air," she states quietly. "So I'm leaving now."

Adam lets her past and watches as she quickly darts through the pods. Ruth is beside him, immobile until the thin streak of white is out of view.

"How do you know she won't-"

"She won't. Not yet, she'll talk to her father first. Besides, I'll make sure she's okay."

* * *

Zaf is halfway back to Thames House when the voicemail message comes through. He presses '1', hoping for good news.

"_Zaf..."_

It's Ros.

"_...I know you see me as a murderous traitor bitch, but did you really have to go and do that? You told them all about me, knowing they were going to pull me in. I warned them about the cars; I saved their lives, and 'your people' fucking dare to bring my mother up..."_

Zaf feels his heart drop; her family was a taboo subject, rarely brought up and only in a 'don't dare scratch beneath the surface' way. How Adam found out about their dynamic, he dreads to think.

"_They told me she killed herself and I thought they were full of shit until they produced hospital records. You had her fucking hospital records! And do you want to hear the best part? She did it because he'd been unfaithful to her right from day one. Now, I have to go talk to a man who killed his wife and re-married a bitch, and who'll probably lie to my face in an attempt to get him to back down. And to think I actually felt guilty last night for not letting you grieve. You just dragged my mother's name through shit but hey, you got what you fucking came for."_

He's barely hung up before his phone starts to ring. He really hopes it's good news this time because he needs to talk to Ros.

"Zaf, it's Ruth. Collingwood's pulling some kind of Valhalla at the detention centre. Adam's on his way."

"Me too. Have you heard anything from Ros?"

"Only the above information. I'm sorry."

"It had to be done."

As he escorts Harry off the premises, knowing the back-up will be collecting a dead body, he thinks he knows a way to get them both through this shit-storm that has battered their relationship. He jogs slightly ahead to the blond man leading the way to the car.

"Adam, are you planning to recruit her?"

He glances over at his friend. "Unless you don't want me to, yes."

"Good. Do it as soon as we get back. She'll need something to take her mind off today."

"You still want to be with her, don't you?"

Zaf doesn't know how to explain (and doesn't want to) that the Ros Myers he loves is a human being, not a spy. A human being whose head has just been fucked up by a manilla file and its contents. He wants to fix things between them, and up until Ros left that voicemail, she wanted the same.

Besides, he doesn't know what he'd do if he got back and she was gone; in every sense of the word.

_

* * *

Please review!_


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